Beneath the Surface
by Mewtation
Summary: A case goes deeper than anyone ever thought. With the aid of a fellow agent, can Cory Russet unravel the mystery?
1. A Prelude

It was late. Cory looked at the clock. Eleven PM.

A man poked his head into the doorway of Cory's office. "Russet, you got a minute?"

Cory looked up. "What's up, Mike?"

"We've got some new developments on the Intrinsic case."

Cory stood up and met Mike at the door. "Let's go. I want to hear this."

The two walked down the hall. "You know what 'intrinsic' means, right?" Mike asked.

"Yeah. Core, integral."

"Exactly. And that's what they're trying to play. Have you seen their new commercial?"

"No, I haven't. You know me; I don't watch TV."

Mike stopped walking and looked Cory square in the eyes. "You're too serious, Russet. Come on, you're, what, twenty-five?"

Cory also stopped and returned his gaze. "Twenty-four. What's that have to do with anything?"

"Come on. When I was your age, I knew how to have fun."

"This job doesn't call for 'fun'."

Mike sighed. "I'm afraid we've ruined you. You're the best guy we have. You're also the youngest we have. Maybe someone my age isn't right for the job. But you no longer know how to live a normal life."

"Who's to say what is 'normal'?"

Mike sighed and laughed. "Well, no arguing with that." He resumed walking, and Cory followed. "Anyway, Team Intrinsic has a new commercial out, trying to win the hearts of the general public. But we think they're up to no good."

"Wouldn't follow differently from any other 'Team'."

"That's right. Reminds me of the Rocket case thirteen years ago. Oh, here we are." They stopped at a door. Mike removed a card from his wallet and swiped it in the keylock. The lock clicked and Mike opened the door and beckoned Cory in.

The door shut behind the two. The room they were now in was dimly lit. As a matter of fact, the only light source in the room came from a projected image on a wall.

A man walked over to Cory and shook his hand. "Ah, Cory Russet, it's an honor to meet you. Alan Nichols, lead Intelligence. I understand you're top agent here?"

"I wouldn't go that far, but pretty close," Cory shrugged.

"Humble man. Have a seat."

Cory took a seat at the side of the long table as Nichols walked to the front and began the presentation.

"All right, first of all, Team Intrinsic has a new commercial out, designed to bring them into a more family-friendly position." He clicked on a small black box on the screen being projected, and a clip started playing. It faded in to a shot of a grassy field, and a calm, male voice spoke. "Our world…"-the clip shifted to a shot of a barren wasteland-"…is a fragile ecosystem. Team Intrinsic aims to help preserve our world" (a shot of the Earth) "for the future." It ended on a shot of a young child, smiling at the camera.

"Short but 'sweet'," Cory muttered, particular malice on the word "sweet."

"Yes," Nichols agreed. He pressed a button on his remote and shifted to the next slide. It showed a logo, "FundGen" in stylized letters.

"FundGen?" Cory asked.

"Yes. It's a very new company, started up less than six months ago. The name is short for 'Fundamental Genetics'. We believe that it may have ties with Team Intrinsic, if not a cover organization for Intrinsic itself."

"Are we going to have another Rocket/Mewtwo fiasco on our hands?"

"No, no, while it's unclear as to FundGen's motives, we don't believe that they're cloning legendary Pokémon. The Mewtwo incident was never made public, and, if it hadn't been for that kid stumbling onto their plans, they would have succeeded. But we think that Intrinsic is too smart for a Rocket rehash."

He pushed the button on the remote again. The logo was replaced by a picture of a sleek, black tower.

"This is FundGen's headquarters, located in Pomegranate City."

"Not too shabby."

"Not at all." He clicked the remote again, and a picture of a man, roughly in his early thirties, appeared. He was tall, lean, and wore a navy blue suit. His long hair was slicked back, and he had on slim sunglasses.

"This is Alexi Michaels. He is president and founder of FundGen, and possibly leader of Team Intrinsic. He's been linked to both."

"Takes care of himself, doesn't he?"

"Not only that; it's rumored that he has a mansion on Kiwi Island. He's a very rich man, and could afford to buy whatever he wanted: good or bad. Now—"

Before he could continue, Cory's cell phone rang. Anyone else, and it would have been rude, but Cory only received important matters on this phone. He took the call.

"Yeah?"

"We've received a distress call from FundGen headquarters. How quickly can you get to Pomegranate?"

"I'm at HQ right now. I can be there in ten minutes, give or take."

"Hurry. It's an urgent call, and time is important. The agent was collecting information, and came under fire."

"Well, that rules out FundGen as a legitimate company. I'm on it." He shut the phone and turned to Nichols. "I'm sorry to cut our meeting short. Send me the remaining info in a secure email. I'll get back to you."

Nichols nodded. "Will do. Good luck."

Cory opened the door. "I don't need luck," he said without turning back to him. He walked out and closed the door.


	2. The Girl

The place Cory worked was TPH. Some said it was short for "Top Police Headquarters", but in reality, it didn't really stand for anything. It was just a meaningless acronym for a faceless society. That is, few knew about it, and even fewer knew what went on there. 

TPH was a society of some of the region's top agents. They did everything from investigating mysterious leads to "extinguishing" problematic items. They kept a low profile; however, they did have connections where connections were needed. TPH had allies in the police forces of all the major regions, to name an example.

Cory pulled his car into a parking space by the side of FundGen Tower and stepped out. "Employees Only," read the sign. Not like it'd matter; he only planned on being there a few minutes.

If these were ordinary guards, he knew the type of Pokémon they'd have: Electric. They wanted to stun intruders, not kill them. Cory removed a Pokéball from his pocket and pressed the button. Shedinja came out in a flash of light, and Cory pocketed the ball. Only the naïve ones would laugh at Cory's using of a Shedinja; he had taught it many unique and powerful moves, and Wonder Guard would save his ass in a pinch. Since Shedinja didn't have a weakness to Electric-type attacks, it wouldn't be hit by them. Unless they used Thunder Wave, but he figured that they wouldn't use that. Grunts usually were sadistic, maiming while stunning. However, just to be safe—

"Shedinja, Double Team," Cory muttered to it.

A shimmer of light passed over Shedinja to indicate that it had performed the move. Evasiveness went up, lessening the chance that it would be hit by any attack.

Cory walked to the doors and opened them. The door had a sign pasted: "Doors lock at midnight." They weren't locked: it was only eleven-thirty. He walked in, and headed for the elevators, only to be stopped by an elderly guard.

"What's your business?" the guard asked, eyeing Cory and the Shedinja hovering motionlessly in the air beside him. It was obvious that this was just a simple guard, doing his job; no malicious intent was meant.

Cory flashed a police identification card and a printed warrant. Both were fake, but TPH had state-of-the-art equipment: both looked official. "Official police business. We have reason to suspect that there may be suspicious activity going on. Mind if I investigate?" He would have entered anyway, but the guard agreed.

"Well, can't argue with a warrant. Go ahead. I hope you find what you're looking for. Or don't, depending on what you're looking for." The guard stepped out of the way and allowed Cory access to the elevator.

"Thank you." Cory entered the elevator and pressed the button for the 28th floor (where the call had come from), three floors below the top floor. He waited, the elevator dinging with every floor reached.

Finally, the elevator made it to the 28th floor and opened the door. Cory paused for a second: dead silence. He took a step out. Nothing. He took a second step. Immediately, he came under fire of various Pokémon attacks from all sides.

"Shit!"

He sent out Arbok. "Cover me!" he commanded as he ran. Arbok spread its head to its full length and started absorbing attacks. He directed Shedinja to Shadow Ball any enemy it saw.

Ahead, he saw a girl. She was using a table as cover from attacks as her Meowth attempted to Pay Day anyone who got too close. He called to her.

"Hey, I'm here to save your ass! Cory Russet, TPH. Come here, take cover under Arbok and let's get out of here!"

She ran to him, her Meowth following behind. "Thanks. Laura Fleet, freelance agent for Top Johto Police Force."

"We'll discuss introductions later!" Taking a capsule from his pocket, he hurled it up at the ceiling, where it stuck. He grabbed her hand and ran back to the elevator. Pressing the button for the ground floor, he recalled Arbok. After the door closed, he sighed.

"That was too easy, almost like they let us go."

Laura nodded. "They cut down on the attack when you came. Almost like they knew you or something."

"Either that, or they didn't want to strike someone of their own. There's probably a meeting going on later tonight; hopefully, the bug I dropped will pick up something useful."

The elevator opened at the ground floor. Cory walked out, his Shedinja, Laura, and her Meowth following. Cory thanked the guard again as he walked out the doors, the guard looking over the group curiously.

They ran to Laura's car. She checked the tires; they had been slashed.

"Damn it!" she muttered. "Can I go with you?"

Cory rolled his eyes and led her to his car. He clicked the unlock button on his keyremote twice. Laura looked at the car.

"It's a few years old. Not exactly luxury, is it?"

"Six years old, and I opted for it. It doesn't draw suspicion. Are you going to get in before someone decides to come after us?" Cory got in the car.

Laura followed suit. Once on the road, Cory rolled down the window to let the cool night air ruffle his short, blond hair.

"So," he asked, "how exactly are you a 'freelance' agent for the TJPF?"

Laura ran a hand through her black hair and laughed. "It means that I don't exactly work for them, but I gain info for them and they'll bail me out if I happen to get in trouble doing my 'job'."

"So you're a spy."

Laura laughed again. "That's one way of putting it, I suppose."

Cory glanced at her and returned his eyes to the road. "What are you, seventeen?"

"Very funny. I'm twenty-two. People always tell me I look young for my age."

"That's a blessing and a curse."

"Tell me about it. What about you?"

"Twenty-four."

"Really. I would have guessed at least thirty."

"This job takes its toll."

"I bet you're one of those people who obsesses with his job, and can't even have fun outside of his job."

"I don't have 'fun'."

"Oh, my God. You are, aren't you?"

"And for the record, I don't 'obsess'. Unless you define such as being painfully loyal to my job."

"Well, it sounds like it." She looked out the window as she took out a cell phone and dialed a number.

"Yeah, they caught me. Oh, I don't expect my car to be there tomorrow, they slashed the tires and I had to leave it." She paused for a moment, listening, then burst out in anger. "What do you mean, you won't pay for it? I was getting info for you!" Pause. "Look—what—wait—now, hold on!" She closed the phone. "Damn it."

"Problems?" Cory asked unsympathetically.

"To say the least. Basically, since I didn't get anything useful, and I _had_" (particular emphasis on "had") " a very good car, they won't pay for it. Which means I'm stuck in this region until I find a way out. Then they hung up on me."

"Sounds like a personal problem."

Laura was annoyed. "You're quite the ladies man, aren't you? Here I am, stuck in an unfamiliar region, and you're being quite rude."

"Hey, I'm giving you a ride, aren't I?"

"That you are. Thank you. How far to…wherever you're going?"

"TPH HQ, and here we are." He pulled in front of an inconspicuous building. "Follow me. If anyone stops you, drop the name 'Russet', and no one will ask questions."

"Right." She followed Cory in. Cory stopped at Mike's office and knocked. Mike opened the door.

"Russet! Who's this?"

"_This_…is Laura Fleet, freelance 'agent' for the TJPF. Though, from the sounds of things, it doesn't sound like she's on good terms with them right now."

"Well, come in."

Cory and Laura entered the room, allowing Mike to shut the door. "Now, Mrs. Fleet—"

"—Miss."

"Okay then. We may be able to help you, since we did get your call. But you have to tell us what went on."

Laura began. "Okay, TJPF gave me some leads on FundGen. I had a suspicion that this mysterious Team Intrinsic was in on whatever was happening too. So, I broke into FundGen Tower to get information, but they caught up to me. When I called Johto about it, they refused to help me since I didn't get anything they could use."

"So you linked FundGen and Intrinsic also. Well, here's the thing. Since you're on the case as well, if you help us crack it, we'll help you out with whatever you need. Sound good?"

"That would be great, thank you."

"And since you're helping us, we can make you a temporary agent for TPH."

"Thank you."

"Let me get you some hotel reservations." He picked up the phone and dialed the Pomegranate Hotel. "What? No vacancy...okay, thanks." He hung up the phone. "Well, thanks to some event FundGen has planned, Pomegranate Hotel is booked. Next closest hotel is in Cherry Town, and that's a good hour off. Russet, may I speak with you?"

Mike took Russet into a corner and lowered his voice. "How about you let Miss Fleet stay with you tonight?"

"Why can't you? You know I hate having visitors."

"Because…" Mike trailed off.

"Ah, problems with the wife?"

"Shut up. Better than you, you're too antisocial to find anyone."

"Hey, you want my help or not?"

"So you'll let her stay at your place until this is solved?"

"Hey, wait a minute! I thought it was just the night!"

"Well, may as well make it a package deal."

"…fine. But, you owe me, you know."

"I trust you'll maintain utmost formality around her?"

"And then some." Cory turned to Laura. "You're staying at my house tonight."

Laura was surprised. "That's okay? I hope I'm not intruding. I hate to be a bother."

"It's…no bother," Cory said with some hesitation.

"Since you're stuck here with basically nothing," Mike chimed in, "Cory can take you to the store tomorrow and let you pick up some clothes and other necessary items."

"Thank you, Mike," Cory said under his breath.

"Thank you," Laura repeated. She met Cory at the door.

"Have fun," Mike said as he smiled and opened the door for the two.

"I don't have 'fun'," Cory grumbled.


	3. On the Case

"Sorry," Cory said as he opened the door and turned on the light, "I haven't had anyone over in a long time." 

Laura walked in, expecting to see a large mess. Instead, she met with a spotless living room, medium in size. She walked around, inspecting the room. There was a small, grey, aged couch at one end of the room, a mottled coffee table leg's distance from it, and a moderately sized TV/DVD combo on a table at the opposite side of the room (roughly fifteen feet away). Other than that, the room was bare. Three hallways extended out from this room.

"Wow!" she exclaimed. "It's…clean!"

"You expected anything different?" Cory asked.

"No…" Laura trailed off. She sat on the couch.

Cory pointed to each of the hallways. "That hallway leads to the bathroom, that hallway leads to the office, and that one leads to my room and the kitchen. There's some food in there: not much, but help yourself. As for a bed, you're welcome to my room. There's a futon in the office; I'll sleep there."

Laura shook her head. "I refuse to take your room and make you sleep on a futon. I'll sleep here until we get better arrangements set up," she said, stretching out on the couch and closing her eyes. Her legs stretched out over one arm of the couch as she rested her head on the opposite arm.

Cory took this time to look her over: lean, semi-tall. She looked to be about 5'8" (most of that seemed to be her legs, as she had long legs). He couldn't be exactly sure, but he had noticed that he was just a few inches taller than her. She wore a tight-fitting black shirt (she had obviously planned for stealth) and jeans. She had an innocent looking face (he hadn't been kidding when he guessed her age) and sleek, black hair that reached somewhere around mid-way between her shoulders and her elbows.

He shrugged. "Suit yourself. The offer's up if you change your mind. I'm tired; I'm going to bed." He turned towards the hallway leading to his room.

"Cory?"

Cory cringed. He hated being referred to by his first name; it wasn't professional. Mike had particularly gotten to him earlier, but he let it go. And now Laura was doing it? He'd talk to Mike if he kept it up, but Cory decided to make an exception for Laura.

"Yeah?" he asked, turning his head around towards her. She still had her eyes closed, resting on the couch.

"Thanks again for saving me…and giving me a ride and helping me get situated. And letting me stay with you until this is over."

"It's business, Agent Fleet."

"Please, call me Laura."

Cory turned back. "No. We work together; I will address you by your last name."

"Okay, then. Good night."

"Good night."

Cory went to his room (nearly as barren as the living room, as all there were was a bed, a wardrobe, and a little table by the bed) and lay down on the bed. He closed his eyes and tried to sleep, but sleep just wouldn't come to him. He lay there for about three hours before finally getting up and looking at the clock. 4:37 AM. Cory rubbed his eyes and walked to the kitchen (consisting of a cabinet, an oven, a refrigerator, a microwave, and a table with two chairs) to get a glass of water. Returning to the living room, he found Laura sound asleep, curled into the couch.

"Glad someone's getting some sleep," he muttered, taking a drink from his glass.

He walked across the room and entered his office. This was the only room that actually seemed to have something in it: it contained many sophisticated electronic items, the floor and desks (there were about four desks in this room, and three chairs, two of which rolled) strewn with random papers. Cory sat down at the computer in this room and turned on the monitor, rubbing his eyes. Once the operating system had booted, he loaded a program to allow him to patch into the feed from the bug he had laid. He watched it for an hour: nothing at all. Finally, he collapsed on the keyboard, able to sleep.

He was violently awakened by an alarm two hours later, 6:45 AM. His head darted up, he smacked the off button on the clock, and focused on the monitor he had fallen asleep in front of. Nothing out of the ordinary, just some morning cleaning crews. He yawned. He hadn't slept this restlessly in a long time. He thought work might be getting to him, but he immediately dismissed that notion. Standing up, he picked up his glass from a few hours before and exited the room. Down the hall, he could hear the quiet murmur of the television.

"Good morning, Fleet," he muttered, entering the room.

"Good morning," she replied. She sat on the sofa, her eyes on the TV, watching some news program. "When do we leave?" she asked, her gaze not moving.

"Half an hour." He walked into the kitchen to place his glass in the sink, then back to his room to get ready. Twenty minutes later, he was ready, showered and dressed. He stood by the front door. Laura was ready, so he exited without a word. She followed.

The drive was uneventful. Every time Laura would attempt to instigate conversation, Cory would dismiss the talk, so eventually Laura gave up. Arriving at TPH, Mike greeted them at the door.

"Well, there you two are!" he said cheerfully.

Cory was not amused. "What are you doing?"

"I'm just greeting our guest!"

"You're early."

"I thought you could take-"

Cory held up his hand. "I know where you're about to go with that sentence, and allow me to stop you. No, I'm not taking her out to get things. I'm not her babysitter."

Laura coughed in an "I'm still here" sort of way. Cory ignored it.

"Cory!" Mike said strictly. "Show our guest some respect!"

"If you want to help her, you can take her yourself. I've got a job to do." Cory brushed past Mike and entered the building without a second glance back.

Laura took a couple of steps forward to join Mike's side. "Why do you put up with his attitude?"

"Well," Mike sighed, "he's good at what he does. Very good. Even if he can be a bit abrasive."


	4. Get a Clue

In his office, Cory ruffled through papers. He couldn't find anything of interest or relevance, so he turned to his computer. He had four new emails. Three were memos, unimportant stuff, but one caught his interest. It was a simple email: 

"Hope this helps."

Attached were four pictures and one audio clip. He looked at the pictures first. The first one showed some sort of lab, blinding white yet barren of people. It looked like it was some sort of biological research laboratory. The second one was a picture of Alexi Michaels, at a conference desk with several hooded figures, obviously high-ranking members of Team Intrinsic. The third wasn't exactly a picture: it was a map, a very detailed floor map of, the label said, FundGen's headquarters. He glanced at it briefly, from what he remembered during his brief stay, it looked accurate. All fifty-three floors were documented. He sent this one to the large printer in the other room so it would print full-size, and moved on to the next. This one was odd, it was a picture of four people in front of a very impressive mansion. The four people were Michaels, a middle-aged female in a light hooded long-sleeve shirt, a similarly-aged male in the same hooded shirt (which Cory noticed read "Team Intrinsic" in the upper corner), and a younger female with pale, blonde hair. This last girl caught his surprise: he _knew_ that he had seen her before. She had a pale scar running down the side of her face from the side of her eye to her chin. She couldn't be very old, probably her late teens or early twenties, and he wouldn't have even paid this much attention to her face if she didn't look so _oddly_ familiar. Ah, he shrugged, onto the voice clip. It was only a few seconds long.

A male voice, whom he recognized as Michaels from news broadcasts: "Has the formula been perfected yet?"

A female voice, low but authoritative: "No, it has not been finished yet." The clip ended there.

Cory sat back in his chair, confused. This person, _whoever_ it was, had given him so much information, yet was vague enough to leave him back at square one. He didn't even know if this source was trustworthy, but it was a potential lead. He saved the files to his computer and walked outside. Mike and Laura were gone: Mike must have taken her in his stead. Cory paced around the building a few times to clear his head and wake himself up. Upon his third circling of the building, his phone rang. Caller ID said "Unidentified Number". He reluctantly answered it, and before he could answer a greeting, a distorted voice cut him off.

"Meet me at the Blueberry Café at two PM." The call ended abruptly.

Cory stared, dumbfounded, at the phone before pocketing it. "How cliché," he muttered, "but it's a place to start." He looked at his watch. It was eleven AM. Blueberry City was a good two hour drive, so he packed up his computer and left.

He made it there. Blueberry was nearly on the opposite side of the region as TPH HQ was. He was still half an hour early, so he checked out the radio station. He liked to play the daily contest whenever he was in town, which wasn't often. He walked into the station and up to the contest desk, where he drew his Trainer Card and placed it on the counter. He flashed a brief smile at the counter attendant, who smiled at him.

"Hello, Mr. Russet. Let me just run your ID…" She turned to a computer and keyed in his ID code. The computer worked for a second before sounding a very cheerful ping. She turned back to Cory, handed him his card back, and told him the good news. "Congratulations, Mr. Russet, you've won a TM!" She keyed in something on the computer, and a disc materialized on the pad beside it. She handed him the disc. He read it, it was Blizzard. He thanked her with a smile and started to walk off.

The attendant stopped him. "Wait, Mr. Russet, I have something else for you!" He turned back to the desk, and she presented him with a small, green Pokéball. "This is a special edition Pokéball, created to commemorate FundGen's special event!" He took the ball and looked it over: it had FundGen's logo in bright metallics on the front of the ball, but for all other purposes, it was an ordinary Pokéball.

He would have inquired about this event, but he only had ten minutes to make his appointment. He thanked her and tossed the ball in the air a couple of times before pocketing it, walking off. He made his way to the café and sat down in an open area. He didn't know who his contact was, but he guessed that he (or she) knew him, so he'd find Cory. He sat there for twenty minutes to no avail, then stood up to go to the bathroom. When he'd returned, he sat for five more minutes: nothing. A waiter walked up to him.

"Sir, are you a Mr. Cory Russet?"

"Yes, I am," he replied warily.

"I have a note for you." The waiter handed him a folded piece of paper.

"I see. What did this person look like?" Cory inquired.

"I was asked to not reveal that information, I apologize." He gave a slight bow and walked off.

Cory opened the note. It was a simple note that left Cory frustrated.

"Sorry, meeting will not work out. I'll call again. –S"

S? This was getting very odd. Cory folded up the note, placed it in his coat pocket, and drove back to HQ.


End file.
